A Trawler Kind Of Day

Awendaw Creek to Butler Island |  5.9 Hours  |  34.3 Miles  

A long travel day yesterday set us up nicely for a shorter run today. We were able to sleep in past sunrise, although with the heavy cloud cover we could not really tell when the sun peeked over the horizon. I put on all my foul weather gear -- pants, jacket, and boots -- to raise the anchor in a light rain. As usual the blowback from the anchor washdown gave me the biggest shower. That's what happens when Crossroads is pointed into a 25-knot wind. We exited Awendaw Creek into the ICW to find limited visibility from the hazy fog and the raindrops on the windows. A check of the weather radar confirmed that we were in the middle of a passing front and that my sunglasses would not be needed in the near future. It was a trawler kind of day and we were thankful to be warm and dry inside the pilot house. The rain and gray clouds eventually blew over us to the east.  

To the west, the sky was clearing. The poor weather had minimized the amount of personal watercraft zipping around us. We encountered four boats all day and they were all large and well-powered. The smallest boat had twin 300 hp outboards. The largest yacht was a spiffy Zeelander. A Google search revealed that it has a fold out back deck that is spectacular. When exited the Estherville Minim Creek Canal into Winyah Bay, the waves increased as the strong wind moved in opposition to the current. The sea grasses all swayed in unison at the direction of the wind.  

Passage through the Siau Bridge at Georgetown was made a bit more interesting than needed thanks to a rolling following sea. We duck-walked our way through the center span. A short distance later we turned in behind Butler Island and dropped the anchor a short distance from Peter and Nicole on Dauntless, a Queenship trawler. We met them in Beaufort and will travel together for a few days as we both head north. As predicted, another round of storms arrived an hour after setting our hook. I was in the pilothouse watching as the clouds rolled in. For two hours, rain fell and the wind howled consistently at 30 knots with gusts over 40. The Wacccamaw River looked more like Willie Wonka's Chocolate River. 

By dinner time conditions had settled and it turned into a beautiful evening. Winds had decreased to a gentle 10 knots. The low sunlight of later afternoon filtered through the clouds to cast a soft light on the trees of Butler Island. Most of the clouds moved out, but those that remained helped to create a nice sunset. Tomorrow is supposed to be a sunny, but still breezy day as we cross into North Carolina.

Outside And Inside

Beaufort, SC to Awendaw Creek |  12.6 Hours  |  96 Miles  

The 5:45 alarm came way too early, but we quickly got to work on final preparations for departure. We left the Port Royal Landing dock at our target time of 6:30, pulling out south into a strong current. The Mcteer Bridge which connects Port Royal to Lady's Island was to starboard as we made a U-turn to head north. At the other end of Beaufort, the Woods Swing Bridge opened for a sailboat and larger trawler to pass. Normally, we could have continued under the closed span with a few feet to spare. Interesting note about this bridge: it served as a stand-in for a bridge over the Mississippi River in the movie Forrest Gump. The morning was still with no wind. It was very humid and the bugs were out in force.

The view was typical of the low country with water and grass flowing together seamlessly. We were entertained by many dolphin appearances. Barry installed our replacement windshield wiper arm before we needed it. The forecast called for storms rolling through by the evening. At the first inlet, we turned east and we flushed out of the Coosaw River at 9 knots into the Atlantic. For a short period of time, we were traveling directly into the sun line. We didn't mind because soon we would be in the deep open water of the ocean and would make a bee-line north. A shrimp boat was already working to secure the day's catch.

We immediately began calculating how for we could get before dark and the change in weather. While all the high-level math was happening, a small bird came and hitched a ride on our upper deck railing. Nearing Charleston we could see the Morris Island Lighthouse and the iconic Cooper River Bridge through the haze on the horizon. The waves on our stern were getting larger so we elected to enter Charleston Harbor. The American Independence was exiting the channel as we were entering. The long approach was guarded by two large jetties that were mostly underwater at this time of high tide. Off to starboard, hundreds of people lined the beach in front of the Sullivan's Island Lighthouse. A large tanker passed by to port. 

A sharp right turn put us in the Intracoastal Waterway. We were back to worrying about the busy small boat traffic and water depth. Crossroads made it through Isle of Palms this time without an unplanned encounter with terra firma. It was a much better trip than when we hit bottom here in January. We again began to calculate how far we could get before dark. The scenery kept us interested as we began to tire from a long day. We arrived at Awendaw Creek at 7:00 and I quickly prepared dinner. The last of the grouper we picked up in the Exumas was a nice treat. By 9:00 the predicted rain had rolled in and the wind has picked up. Thanks to today's long run, we will have a much shorter day tomorrow. We will sleep a little later and hope the rain moves out.

My Heart Led Me Home

Beaufort, SC to Glen Allen, VA (and back) |  36 Hours  |  975 Miles  

First, my apologies for not giving prior notice about missing a post last night. Thanks to those who checked to see if all was OK with Crossroads. It has been a busy two days, but I am so thankful for the ability to have made a quick trip home. You all recognize the name of my best friend Glenda from the many references in this blog over the years. We are two peas in a pod. I am so blessed to have a kindred spirit and to have also developed close relationships with her extended family. They truly are my family as well. Some of my favorite memories from last year were visits with her dad. I could usually bring a smile to his face, especially when I delivered an ice cold Diet Pepsi-Cola. Glenda's dad passed away on Sunday, April 23rd after a period of declining health. My heart commanded me to get home for the funeral. We staged in Beaufort where we secured both dockage and a rental car for the straight drive up Interstate 95. So, at 6:30 pm on Wednesday night I departed Beaufort for home while Barry stayed aboard Crossroads. I arrived at our house in the wee hours of Thursday morning. After turning on the heat, water, and water heater, I slept very well -- and a little later than normal. The sleep and a long, hot shower were all I needed to recharge for the afternoon's service. It was a beautiful day all around for the celebration of life. My heart aches along with the families of his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. 

I did have an opportunity to do a few other things while at home. First, I had to sweep all the oak pollen from the driveway. Welcome to springtime in Virginia with massive bales of oak pollen. A walk around the yard revealed a few of my azaleas were in peak bloom (some had faded, some have yet to bloom -- they never all bloom at the same time). The peonies and rhododendrons are just beginning to open. I love the bright splashes of vibrant pink blooms against the green leaves. I even ran to the local West Marine and picked up some pink antifreeze for Barry so that he can pickle our watermaker. We were unable find any here in South Carolina because the winters are so mild. The best bonus activity was a surprise drop-in visit to my mom and sister. I had not told them of my roadtrip home because mom would have stayed awake all night worrying about my travel. This way, she only worried about my return trip. Back at our house, I packed, reset the utilities to away mode, then got a bit of sleep. At 12:45, I closed the door and retraced my route down I-95 in the rain. The Buc-ee's in Florence, SC, was perfectly located for a well-lit and safe refueling stop on both legs of my trip. The impeccably clean restrooms were a huge bonus. They also have more junkfood in one place than anywhere else on the planet. I picked Barry up a box of Beaver Buddies (think animal crackers) just because.

I arrived back at the marina on schedule this morning at 8:30. After unloading in the rain and a nap, the sky cleared for our trip into town to return the rental car. Following lunch we headed out for a walk and met Layla, a black lab, in front of our boat. We then met her humans, Jeff and Dana, and spent the next few hours chatting like we'd known each other for years. They are beginning their search for a boat and want to start cruising. We wish them well and definitely hope to cross paths again. Our nature walk around the Port Royal Landing development took us under a high-arching canopy of Spanish moss-laden oaks. Super cute houses were tucked under the trees' crooked branches. Some trees served as nurseries for lush fern growth. A lone squirrel paused on the patio railing and listened as we returned to the dock. We will depart tomorrow morning and head to Charleston. The weather is not cooperating so it looks like we'll be plodding through the ICW for most of our remaining north-bound miles. I cancelled my haircut appointment scheduled for May 8. Our arrival in Deltaville will be a few days later than anticipated.

So Much More Than A Tree

Beaufort, SC   

The morning was sunny, clear, breezy, and chilly. We left the windows and doors shut while doing our morning chores, but I still needed long sleeves. The big event of our day was picking up the rental car at noon. We celebrated our mobility with a late lunch across the bridge on Lady's Island. While out we also visited Walmart and Publix for a few items. On our return trip across the bridge, the dark clouds caught our attention. Crossroads waited for our return (the guardrail insisted on being part of the photo). 

The rain began as we pushed the dock cart to Crossroads with our purchases -- antifreeze, oil, and windshield wiper blades. Multiple shades of blue-gray clouds moved over the marina. A light shower fell for the next hour. After dinner we took a short walk and I was able to get a better picture of the large tree I referenced yesterday. I had been thinking of this special tree all day and how its bark, branches, trunk, new growth, squirrels, and Spanish moss all add character and dimension to make it a truly mighty oak. Its strong roots keep it grounded, and standing strong in the face of all storms. Oh, what it has seen and endured over the years as it continues to grow and extend its reach. This beautiful specimen is so much more than a tree and we are fortunate to observe all of its splendor. Maybe tomorrow I can give it a visit.

Fast Tracking To South Carolina

Fernandina Beach, FL to Beaufort, SC |  19.3 Hours  |  118 Miles  

We were able to visit a large section of Amelia Island during our short stay in Fernandina Beach. While we were off exploring restaurants, beaches, parks, and museums, Crossroads was also busy in the anchorage. The effect of high and low levels of both tide and wind was a complete circle on the anchor monitor. No worries though, for our anchor held firm. Exploring the town was a wonderful bonus for us over the weekend. The primary reason, however, that we made Fernandina Beach our first stop in the United States was the cheapest source of diesel on the east coast. We timed our 12:45 pm departure to coincide with slack tide at the fuel dock at Port Consolidated. Barry eased us onto the dock in front of the large sport fisher and I securely tied us up and made sure we were well-fendered. It was some of my finest work. We then were told that the second pump was inoperable because it had been struck by lightning. I was disappointed that we would have to move, but even more so that we'd have to wait for the sport fisher to take on almost 2,000 gallons. Our turn eventually came and we filled up with 409 gallons. Doing the math, we saved over $300 vs. re-filling in Virginia, and over $1,000 on this quantity if we had topped off in Spanish Wells. By 2:30 we were done and heading back into the Atlantic to fast-track some straight line miles and avoid the meandering shallows of the Georgia ICW. The afternoon was gray and overcast. A half dozen shrimp boats were working on the horizon, under the glow of their deck lights. Moving north, the vessel of choice transitioned from shrimp boats to large RoRos moving automobiles from the Port of Brunswick through St. Simon's Sound. A light drizzle developed, but the wind remained light. We had low waves, close together on the nose. Our ride was bumpy, but not uncomfortable. The rain stopped just prior to sunset and the clouds broke enough to get a little show.

We lost cell reception, but were able to pick up over-the-air radio stations. For the first time in a while we did not have to listen to the well-worn playlist on my phone. We watched the waxing crescent moon set at our 9:00 shift change. There were a few points of interest during the night. The VHF radio was busty with chatter about a 36-foot sailboat with two aboard that ran aground and was taking on water. The Coast Guard came and rescued them, but left the boat to salvage. Light pollution from coastal development gave us a well-defined horizon. We passed through a parking lot of large tankers and cargo ships awaiting passage into the Port of Savannah. The wind clocked around to the north and increased the size of the waves through which we were plowing. Even with all of that, we arrived at the sea buoy making the entrance into Port Royal Sound as scheduled at first light. A turn to the west put the waves on our beam. The stabilizers worked hard and gave us a smooth passage of the 10-mile long channel through the low-country shallows. A combination of salt spray and rain covered the windows as the sun rose over the cloud bank. A lone pelican napped as we passed close to him. Once in the sound, we recognized the white/green marker from our January passage. The crew of pelicans were on the job early, applying a fresh coat of white-washing to the channel marker. At Parris Island we veered right to Beaufort and got a much better look (than in January) at the water tower on the grounds of the Marine Corps Recruit Depot. 

A short distance later we passed under the Ladys Island Bridge and made a quick U-turn to dock into the current with a starboard tie at Port Royal Landing marina. We cleaned up the boat and ourselves then headed to the onsite restaurant for lunch. The view from the patio and our meals were excellent. The only complaint was that it was COLD. I had pulled long pants out of storage and attempted to squeeze into them. The extra clothes combined with the "french fry" lights glowing brightly in the rafters did little to simulate warmth. To finally warm up, we took an afternoon walk to West Marine and Piggly Wiggly. The neighborhood surrounding the marina has a dense canopy of mature trees that dripped with the baggage of Spanish moss. While the temperature didn't little to convince me we were in the south, the landscaping drove the point home. Tomorrow we will get a rental car and take care of a few important matters. I'm hoping I won't have to turn on the heat. 

A Walk Through Nature And History

Fernandina Beach  

During last night's rain, I planned the route we would take today on our walk around Amelia Island. We left Crossroads at 10:00 and crossed St. Mary's River to reach the dinghy dock. A large metal sculpture of a shrimp glowed in the morning sunshine from atop a pole. Fernandina Beach touts itself as the Birthplace of the Modern Shrimping Industry, and references to the tasty crustacean are commonplace around town. We used Centre Street as our outbound, 2-mile long east leg. A quick stop was made at the historic 1912 post office to drop off the three oil samples from the changes done in Spanish Wells. Once we crossed over 8th Street, the street name changed to Atlantic Avenue (aka A1A). The road was lined with well-kept houses with lush landscaping. Dozens of large magnolia blooms and hedges of blooming jasmine cast a sweet smell in the air. No matter how many times I see them, I still do a double take when I spot "house plants" in Virginia planted outdoors here in the deep south. These peace lilies were the latest find and joined amaryllis and poinsettias on that list of plants. We crossed the bridge over Egans Creek and looked back to see the Amelia Island Lighthouse peeking over the treetops. The beacon was built in 1838, and is Florida's oldest lighthouse -- first lit before Florida was a state. Atlantic Avenue dead-ended a short distance later at Main Beach Park. We were facing the aggressive surf of the ocean -- same ocean as The Bahamas, but a totally different world.

A large sand dune separated the parking lot from the wide beach which was covered in shells. I could have picked up my bodyweight in perfect cockle shells with little effort. I filled one pocket in my shorts and even found a large shark tooth. I walked along the surf, but not in it, for a while before returning to Barry who was waiting at one of several oceanfront park benches.

We turned southbound on A1A and passed numerous rental houses and apartments. Noticeably absent on this stretch of oceanfront were high-rise chain hotels. The rental house Katie's Light caught our attention for being a replica lighthouse resembling the Stingray Point Lighthouse at our home marina. We ducked back onto the sand at Beach Access 9 and found this less populated stretch much more to our liking. The red flag was flying indicating High Hazard for high surf and/or strong currents. 

Jasmine Street provided the start of our west/inbound route. We took a detour into Egans Creek Greenway and followed the grass-covered trail. We paused to eat our packed lunches and then continued across the bridge and over the creek and salt marsh.

Exiting the park, a familiar sound echoed through the trees. I told Barry it sounded like a cardinal. We searched for a few seconds and found him sitting above the path. I wondered which loved one came to visit us this afternoon. We passed the high school and middle school with their top-notch athletic facilities, which included a disc golf course. We picked up Beech Street and continued west. Bright yellow cactus blooms and delicate Chinese lanterns were interesting finds along the way. Almost back to the riverfront, we arrived at the Amelia Island Museum of History on 3rd Street right as it opened at 1:00. Perfect timing. The museum is housed inside the former Nassau County Jail and covers 400 years of history in 10 exhibit areas. The section on pirates had some fun props to be enjoyed by all ages. 

Of course, there was a recreated holding cell typical of the building's 100 year heritage (1878-1978). Was I in or out? Was Barry in or out? It was just like the Twilight Zone. Hands down, the highlight of the tour for me was listening to the oral history account by Sheriff Windle Brooks on the Great Thanksgiving Day Pot Bust of 1977. Twenty five tons of marijuana were washed ashore in the "pot boat" Gilberto after it hit an offshore reef. The resulting fire and explosion produced predictable results. I could not find the sheriff's audio on the internet, but did find one humorous account of the event. Not coincidently, we followed up our 10k walk and tour with ice cream at our finish line back on Centre Street. We've had a great stay in Fernandina Beach which helped ease us back into a more normal existence. Tomorrow we will depart on another overnight trip up the coast to Beaufort, SC, so there will be no report tomorrow evening while we're offshore.

Cleared Back Into The USA

Great Harbour, Bahamas to Fernandina Beach, Florida |  50 Hours  |  368 Miles  

The Bahamas sent us off in style with one last amazing display of its blues. Different combinations of cloud cover vs. full sun, sandy bottom vs. grassy bottom, and depth vs. shallows created every hue, shade, and tint of blue. We enjoyed the view from the flybridge as we moved north toward Coco Cay. At the resort island, the passengers from two "small" cruise ships had occupied every beach chair within view. 

Once beyond the tip of the island and into deep water, we set a waypoint for Freeport, Grand Bahama. Soon thereafter we lost cell service. The seas were confused with waves traveling in two directions. Crossroads found it tough to maintain six knots at the diesel-sipping RPM we preferred to run. We were, however, in no rush. A pod of dolphin rode our bow wave for a while. There was little boat traffic on our radar, but we did pick up returns from a few scattered showers. It never rained on us, but we were treated to a strong rainbow that eventually closed to complete a full arc (with a faint hint of a double arc).

As daylight ended and we neared Freeport boat traffic increased. Tankers, cargo carriers, bulk carriers, and cruise ships were darting across the screen while going to and from this busy port city. Thankfully, once we passed Freeport, the traffic jam disappeared. We began our three hour watches. From midnight to 3:00 am, the distant Carnival Freedom was our only travel companion. Far in the distance and well lit, it was the perfect travel companion. We had entered the Gulf Stream, were getting a push, and making good time. The clouds had moved out and the stars were captivatingly bright. Back for my next watch at 6:00 a.m., I could have sworn there was a dancing elephant on dawn's horizon. Or I could have still been groggy from short, restless sleep.   

Our first sunrise across the ocean was a good one. After breakfast we lowered our Bahamian courtesy flag and stowed it for use next year. As the day progressed the beam seas within the Gulf Stream made for an increasingly bumpy ride. I went to Fiberglass Beach to soak up some sun, but had to retreat when I soaked up too much sea spray. I went downstairs to do some computer work, but spent most of the time watching the beam sea swamp my view trough the starboard side ports. Moving up to the salon, I could see the swells in the distance rise above the caprail level. Crossroads and the stabilizers handled it all like a champ. We were joined by an occasional pod of dolphin and were thankful for the diversion. We did not see another vessel all day and were quickly tiring of the same playlist cycling on my phone. Before dark we turned a bit more west to give us a more comfortable ride. We both slept better on our second night offshore.

Our final morning was sunny with much calmer seas. Overnight the wind had lessened and clocked around to the southwest. My first order of business was to survey the decks and check to see if we caught any fish. I found one good-sized flying fish that had met his unfortunate demise on our deck. After a photo and a few kind words he was returned to the sea. We were on track to arrive at Fernandina Beach at high tide/slack current. Our next big event would be to regain cell service. Barry was quite pleased that his Pixel picked up a signal a full hour before my iPhone. As we neared our turn inland on the St. Mary's River, I spotted a large sea turtle just off our bow. I'm sure the turtle was thinking the same thing that we thought about the traffic in Freeport, "Its a huge ocean, why do you have to be so close to me?".  A fleet of shrimp boats with their nets down was patrolling just off the channel. Once in the cut, we got a great view of Fort Clinch off to port. The 35-star Grand Luminary Flag few over the cannons as it did in 1864. To starboard, several sailboats were out taking advantage of the steady breeze.

We followed the St. Mary's River to the south and along the commercial dock where several other shrimp boats were tied up. We dropped our anchor and completed our check-in with US Customs. Once legal, we were able to enjoy our view of the marsh off our bow. We lowered the dinghy into the brown water, each of us commenting about missing the crystal clear Bahamian waters. The period of slack current had past and a max ebb tide was racing through the anchorage. To be US legal, we had to put our life jackets in the dinghy.   

We zipped across the anchorage to the dinghy dock at the town marina. We took a leisurely stroll around town, spending time in areas that were new to us. Ash Street led us away from the marina. It was lined with grand houses with beautiful landscaping and points of interest. I'm not sure whether the large stainless steel shrimp or the carousel horses on the porch were my favorite. A lady planting hydrangeas in her front yard stopped us and we had a great chat about plants, the history of the area and her house, and places to visit. We crossed to Centre Street and made our way back to the waterfront. Amongst the typical T-shirt and souvenir stores, and ice cream shops a bubble machine was a novel attention-grabber. The street was nicely landscaped with many areas to sit and people-watch.

We staked claim to a park bench and made a few calls and texts home. We finished our walking tour outside the visitor's center where Barry sat with David Yulee for a while. Yulee founded the Florida Railroad Company and is known as the "Father of Florida's Railroads." His likeness sits in front of his Florida Rail Road train depot holding a pocket watch awaiting his next train. We had a wonderful dinner at Pablo's and I give the Avocado Loco high marks. When we exited the restaurant, it was beginning to sprinkle. Our pace picked up considerably as we made our way back to the dinghy dock. A large dark cloud was over the anchorage and it did not wait for us to get back to the mothership. We all got a good freshwater rinse. The view had definitely deteriorated from just a few hours earlier.

The clouds moved out in time for a nice sunset. The view from the cockpit was rivaled by the reflection of the scene in our door. The flag was a fitting element in tonight's photos. It is nice to be back in the United States and feel more connected with family. We will be here tomorrow and go for another walk. The most difficult part of long offshore travels for me is that my knees get stiff. It takes a few miles to get them moving smoothly. We will pick up fuel first thing Monday morning and continue on our way north.

Farewell, Winter Wonderland

Great Harbour ... and West

Farewell winter wonderland. Thank you, Islands of The Bahamas, for an amazing 78 days. All loose "stuff" has been stowed and meals have been prepped for quick access while underway. Our dinghy has been raised and so has the anchor. We are heading west. Next stop will be somewhere in the United States, probably on Saturday. I'll catch you up on what I hope will be a drama-free voyage once we arrive. Thanks for following along.

A Final Walk In The White Sand

Great Harbour  

Sunshine, blue sky, and low winds greeted us this morning. We lowered the dinghy and set off for Great Harbour Cay Marina. Our first stop was the fuel dock to pick up just shy of a gallon of diesel. We'll keep that jug onboard to hopefully make life easier the next time we change fuel filters. We then cut across the inside anchorage, which only had five sailboats, and tied up at the marina. Barry returned our completed immigration papers to the marina office. We still have to check out via Click2Clear when we raise anchor in The Bahamas for the final time. From the office we traveled a well-known route toward the airport. The terminal facilities have sure expanded since our first visit. We stopped for a quick photo at the Welcome sign.

Our next stop was directly across from the airport at The Beach Club restaurant. We had an enjoyable lunch and an incredible view from our table at the edge of the deck. In the time it took to eat our sandwiches, we could see the sandbars emerging in the distance. Our timing to arrive at Seashell Beach was going to be perfect. We exited and turned left out of the restaurant and followed the road south past the end of the runway, then past where we ran out of asphalt. As with most other islands we've visited this trip, signs of development are everywhere. Beachside trees have been pushed over and burned to make way for large private residences. We spotted the sign to our destination and followed a short path to the beach. We removed our walking shoes and put our toes in the sand near Shark Creek.

Large clumps of sea grass, see weed, and sargassum covered the white sand in the tidal zone. Thankfully the sandbar had far less vegetation. Beautiful sand ripples ran from shore to the horizon, created by wave action in the receding water. An occasional young mangrove stood proudly and defiantly in the otherwise barren area.

Seashell Beach lived up to its name. We walked through the shallows and spotted live brown sand dollars, deceased white sand dollars, as well as colorful pairs of angel wings. I tended to wander much further out than Barry who preferred to stay drier than me. Along the way, we encountered an excavator removing more beachfront trees.

Aside from the construction destruction, it was a great day and a fitting way to end our time in The Bahamas. We were the only folks on the whole beach. One section of the sandbar was covered with live starfish. It was interesting to follow "footprints" in the sand from a wide variety of starfish, of different sizes and shapes. 

The vast sandbar extended to the horizon and, at this time of the day, was only covered in a few inches of water. We followed the beach north preferring the sand route to the road. One section in particular was covered in thick vegetation. We walked through it and were thankful that it was soft. Large clumps moved around like tumbleweed in the sea breeze. Once we cleared that patch, it was back to all smiles.

As we neared The Beach Club we turned for a look behind us and took in where we had been. I went in for a final dip in the surf before we crossed the beach, rinsed off our feet, and put on our walking shoes. One final glance over my shoulder was made to fix the image in my mind. Soon these scenes will be only a memory.

On the back of the airport's Welcome sign was a perfectly placed "Please Come Back Again" sign. See you next year. Back in the dinghy, we exited the narrow cut and zipped across the anchorage to Crossroads. 

All but one collected sand dollar survived the return trip. I read for a while on the upper deck before dinner. The day closed with high hopes for brilliant sunset which was great to a point then got snuffed out by clouds on the horizon. We will check the weather once more in the morning, but as of right now we will depart tomorrow and head to Florida, Georgia, or South Carolina. We have multiple contingency plans depending on the sea state and general conditions from approaching fronts. 

A Never Before Seen Section Of Chain

Great Harbour  

The weather overnight was unsettled with several periods of rain and the return of gusty winds. With the arrival of daylight we noted that we had rotated 180 degrees and were pointing to the northeast. The wind intensified throughout the morning and the anchor monitor showed that we had not securely reset. The tell-tale squiggly yellow line kept moving further and further back. Just before noon and as the gusts climbed to over 30 knots, we upped anchor and repositioned. For good measure we added another 25 feet of chain to our scope, taking us to 175 feet deployed. We had never let out this much chain and it was shocking to see fresh, galvanized links appear in the windless from out of the anchor locker. Once secured, we made the call that we would not attempt to bring the dinghy down today. Shifting to Plan B, I did my stretching and then moved to the sunshine (and wind protection) on the upper deck to finish another book. I have read all of Linda Greenlaw's nonfiction works (including one this trip). I had picked up her first work of fiction a few years ago and found it to be a quick and page-turning read. The wind and waves have calmed, and it is a pleasant evening with low humidity. We will try again tomorrow to get ashore and walk the long, beautiful beach. We will also continue to watch the weather for the next favorable conditions to cross to the States.       

Arrival At Our Final Bahamian Destination

Royal Island to Great Harbour |  10.1 Hours  |  71 Miles  

The alarm clock sounded when it was still dark outside. With the small crescent moon still high, but the sky brightening, we raised the anchor and got underway. We headed west and I kept a lookout behind us as the sky turned shades of yellow and orange and the sun rose over Russell Island. We passed through the small channel between Little Egg Island to port and Big Egg Island to starboard. Soon we were in very deep water.

Morning clouds persisted, but we never encountered rain. We were treated to a faint rainbow directly in front of us. For the better part of six hours, the view did not change with dark blue water and overcast sky surrounding us in all directions across the North East Channel. An occasional ship would pop up on the radar and give us a new object to watch. As we neared our waypoint of Little Stirrup Cay, the waves clocked around to our beam resulting in a few sprays on the pilothouse windshield. Barry's attempt to clear his view by using the wipers produced the undesired result of a broken wiper arm. Oh, well, at least we now have a reason to visit West Marine when we cross over to Charleston. Soon landmarks were recognizable. The Great Stirrup Cay Lighthouse peaked over a small hill. Hundreds of empty chairs were positioned along the beach awaiting the next round of cruise ship passengers.

Rounding the point, the welcome signs to Coco Cay were legible. Two Royal Caribbean cruise ships were docked on their private island. The 2,500-passenger Jewel of the Seas appeared to be a mere dinghy next to the line's flagship 7,000-passenger (plus 2,300 crew members) Wonder of the Seas. Wonder of the Seas is the world's largest cruise ship, has 18 decks, and is five times larger than the legendary Titanic. For comparison, Spanish Wells has a population of around 1,800.   

After gawking at the enormity of the cruise ships and Google-ing facts and specifications, we quickly had to turn our attention back to the water in front of us. Off to starboard, a barge was being cabled to a tug. To port, a (mostly) sunken barge still lurked in the shallows. Once we cleared those two obstacles we followed our previous tracks to the anchorage off of Great Harbour Cay. A light rain continued to fall, streak lightning passed from cloud to cloud in front of us, and an occasional rumble of thunder could be heard in the closed-up pilothouse. I lowered the anchor in the rain, but we had arrived on schedule. A strong microburst caught our attention just before dinner when the wind howled for no more than 20 seconds. That was not long enough to get the instruments turned back on, but we guessed it was in the 60-knot range. Following that excitement, conditions calmed and the sun found a small gap under the heavy cloud cover to make a fiery exit. We will spend a few days at our final Bahamian destination to visit one of our favorite beaches and then wait on a weather window to cross back to the United States. 

 

Staying Calm Between The Storms

Spanish Wells to Royal Island |  1.3 Hours  |  7.1 Miles  

It is always difficult to leave Spanish Wells. Everything about the island makes me want to visit again and stay much longer. The morning was beautifully sunny and calm, but there was absolutely no breeze. The still air allowed the mosquitoes and no see ums to find me, but also created perfect reflections on the water. We were not in a hurry to depart and watched several other boats leave before us. The Concession, another 53-foot Selene, was the first to drop their dock lines and head out the channel. At 9:30 Treadwell tossed us our lines, we waved goodbye, and effortlessly exited the slip, pulling up along the fishing boat New Wave before making a u-turn. I was in the cockpit watching as we passed alongside more fishing boats and putting away the dock lines when our engine suddenly stopped. We were dead in the water. It didn't take long to figure out what had caused the shutdown. The issue was we needed to get to a dock. Thankfully, a local fishing boat pulled alongside, and nudged us over close enough for Treadwell to catch our docklines and get us secured once more. Barry went under the floor, opened a valve, bled some air from the injectors, and finally got us restarted. We repeated the departure sequence and were on our way ... again, thankful to have come through that storm without delay or damage.    

We exited the channel and spotted large rain showers to the east and south. We had a short trip -- barely a mile -- to reach our destination. The clouds were still off at a distance when we anchored so we lowered the dinghy and set off to explore. 

We circled around the western tip of Royal Island. The large sandbar was easy to spot in the distance as it was nearing low tide. We beached the dinghy and set the anchor. On cue five large rays made their way over to us in water no more than a foot deep. I put on my mask and snorkel and followed them around. The rays are so graceful and hover just over the sand. My difficulty today was that they were often too close for a good photo. 

Multiple tour operators bring dozens of visitors here to pet the rays. Their smooth and soft skin had visible scratches from all of this human attention. I found their eyes fascinating.

I put the underwater camera in the dinghy and then walked out to meet Barry on the sandbar. The dark clouds were still threatening on the horizon. We walked the entire perimeter in the warm shallow water. There were no shells or sea grass on bar. The soft, clean sand was covered only in ridges and valleys left by the wave action of the receding water.  

I couldn't leave the sandbar without a visit to the swing. The sky to the west was much more benign. We hopped back in the dinghy and crossed to the eastern end of the island. As we moved over the shallow water and looked down, we began to see many coral heads and large starfish on the grassy bottom. Once the grass changed to sand, Barry stopped the dinghy and I hopped in to take a closer look. Without another object to get a relative size, it was difficulty to show the size of these big stars. I quickly brought one up for Barry to get a closer look then softly returned it to its sandy home.

While I was in the water with the starfish, it began to rain. We abandoned our search for turtles and will have to put them high on our list for next year. As we passed by the swing on our way out, three large tour boats had unloaded dozens of visitors. The rays were getting plenty of attention. We had lucked out and arrived early and in time to have the place to ourselves. Back on the south side of the island, the wind had picked up and so had the wave action. It was a bumpy ride back to Crossroads and we raised the dinghy up before conditions turned worse. The early evening was a little sporty as the clouds moved through the area. It is difficult to capture photos of wave action, but watching the neighboring sailboat pitch makes the point. Crossroads is much heavier than the sailboat and handles the waves without that extreme motion. Squally conditions have persisted into the late evening, with thunder and lightning over Russell Island. All of this storm activity should be gone in the morning when we leave at first light heading to Great Harbour in the Berry Islands. It will be the longest trip we've made in many weeks, but will put us in position to hop back to Charleston (or beyond) with the arrival of the next weather window.